I swim in sorrow, deep and wide,
Against a tide that won’t let me hide.
Each thought is bleak, each stroke is weak,
My breath is weak, I cannot speak.
If I stop to think, I start to sink.
My eyes glue shut if I blink.
I'm slunk in a glum, glug slug of gunk.
Stuck in the oooze of blues, I'm sunk.
My arms grow weary, my eyes are teary.
My fate is bleary, dreary, weary.
For grief is a sea, land-locked in self pity,
In which we wallow, until we swallow, nitty-gritty.
Glum is The Word
Miracle Man
January 2024
It’s difficult, my remaining positive,
when facing negativity throughout each day.
Depressing things are what I encounter,
some thoughts are dark, many others are gray.
It’s dealing with things beyond my grip,
with age came things that have chased my smile.
Like the border situation that won’t be fixed,
making steps more stressful in each mental mile.
Here comes the dawn
of a thoughtful Mourn.
Month of the desecrated demise
of a Monumental personage.
Unpleasant feels beclouds the air
I consume,
My structure reconciles itself
to the dreadful wake of the dawn.
Hushed his grief within,
As though He counts it less.
Burdened the hearts become.
For the weight tears apart within.
Boundary with her,
Was the sweetness of existence.
In a tick of misery
Hard to lug
Uneasy to let slip
Oh Death where’s thy sting
So fresh is the love of the parted soul
Mourning till an afterlife
In her two gems he rejoices.
As life gives succor.
Though Growth he beckons
For an extended home, before night falls.
Life’s unplayed cards
Relinquishes-daunts my being
Fathoming its depth
Again and again
Glum yet Grateful
For the Supreme One
Alone knows all and the why
We seem still within ourselves.
Three Decades plus Six
Yet I breathe
To make proud
This Monumental Personage.
In care of me but usual
as I am always looking
closely with my life
that's so happy.
My life is as likely
a friend who likes me
though I don't know it,
starving like a hunger.
A magical ball on me
that's surround's me
like a sheep or cattle,
grazing for their feast.
As a friend or foe I don't like it,
but comes me as a friend
a man who likes it,
but I am afraid of it.
As I know it soon as always
that's of fear and sadness
of all that takes end
and that of it.
Life seems as a foe of fear and glum,
so that I can choose any
the way it follows,
a friend or foe.
As a being I know it's friend,
but like of a foe of glum.
The Month of November Glum
Late Autumn bloomers, mums galore,
Crowd the mantel with Fall décor,
Filling one’s heart with warmth and timbre,
In the glum month of November.
I watched her pick them one by one,
To place in a vase of chrysanthemums,
Of beguiling colours and scent,
Tempting romantic engagement.
My eyes stretch the fabric of time,
Embedding this vision of mine,
My love’s rapport with chrysanthemums,
In the month of November glum.
***
Note:
The month of November’s birth flower is the lovely Autumn bloomer, chrysanthemum, aka mum. Chrysanthemums display the many colours of Fall. They represent friendship, honesty, and happiness, and symbolize joy and beauty.
Hey loser
I see your coffee
Seen you reach for
what is offy
Got me bad
Saw you're mad
Sucks to see it
Insults my dad
Who you kidding
Not too bright
Sucks to be you
Not my fight
The Month of November Glum
Late Autumn bloomers, mums galore,
Crowd the mantel with Fall décor,
Filling one’s heart with warmth and timbre,
In the glum month of November.
I watched her pick them one by one,
To place in a vase of chrysanthemums,
Of beguiling colours and scent,
Tempting romantic engagement.
My eyes stretch the fabric of time,
Embedding this vision of mine,
My love’s rapport with chrysanthemums,
In the month of November glum.
***
Note:
November’s birth flower is the lovely Autumn bloomer, chrysanthemum, aka mum. Chrysanthemums display the many colours of Fall. They represent friendship, honesty, and happiness; and symbolize joy and beauty.
I'm half agony, half hope
With my silenced voice
And no other choice
But to elope.
Letting go, wishfully glum
Of my life thus far,
Follow the star
To freedom.
For society did shove
In our hearts a dent
We weren't meant
To fall in love.
Borrowed the first line from Jane Austen.
Dedicated to all those who have been prey to man made divisions, boundaries and societal norms. It's time we break free and not be contained within these illusional walls that keep us from reaching out to one another. Let's break barriers and speak the language of love.
I was sitting in my room
I was reading in the silence
darling alone I sit and wonder about you
It's a mysterious and gloomy night
It appears as though nothing's gone right
Please inform me sweetie how I can go on without you?
Okay I'm glum and sad
I don't know what to do, boo hoo
Beep, beep, why don't you send me a text?
Beep, beep, tone of the he happiest sounds
Beep, beep, I look at the cell phone on the bed
And I sit all alone
Please comprehend this need I have
and send me a text?
Woebegone woe beset, be gone
A Wobbegong dumbed down in dumps
Forlorn in doldrums deep and glum
For the taste of glum is dour and sour
Mirthless and mournful, cheerless and doleful
Apparel crestfallen, disheveled, long-face, appalled
Butt out, begone, woebegone Wobbegong, long in tooth
Trim your beard, its shaggy and scummy, and glumly
See more sea, and be seen in scene on screen.